333	12	4	4
Forum Posts	Wiki Points	Following	Followers

How I kicked my WoW addiction. Or didn't.

By deactivated-135098 August 21, 2009 18 Comments

With the prospect of a new World of Warcraft expansion cemented by the announcement of Cataclysm at BlizzCon today, I was awash with a soup of feelings. Nostalgia, excitement, and despair, to name a few. Out of the millions of players who have played or still play WoW, a great many of them have fallen into what for all intents and purposes I'll call "an addiction." To the media, it's a buzzword. To many gamers, it tends to be a running joke in reaction to the media. To those who've experienced it first-hand, it's an unpleasant affair, and albeit my "addiction" hasn't been nearly as ruinous as other real-life addictions (drugs, alcohol) can be, it led me down an undesirable path all the same.

If there has ever been a dark side over the course of my life spent gaming, it's World of Warcraft. I remember first purchasing it in middle school, thinking it was going to be an innocent time sink for the winter holiday. Not so -- it bolstered into something bigger than that.

So much to do, so little time.

Bigger than Ragnaros towering over forty lowly denizens of Azeroth. And that was the first symptom of my addiction: from the moment I installed the game, I couldn't stop thinking about it. My character's stats, spells, and talent points became embossed onto the frontal lobes of my brain. I reveled in surfing Thottbot and Wowwiki, browsing the epic loot and absorbing dungeon lore (with WoW minimized, of course). Anyone who tells you that video games can't hold psychological power over you is lying. WoW never drove me to emulate the game in real life; I never pretended to summon 'void walkers' nor did I 'heroic strike' passersby. But it did skew my frame of mind rather significantly. No game has ever had the power to gut my self-restraint and strew it across the floor like WoW has. I suppose that was my initial flaw -- I blamed the game for my addiction.

Yet, it didn't seem like an addiction at that time. There was one crucial element to the game that justified the heaps of time I put into it: the fact that other people were playing it too. I made some friends who I communicated with through in-game 'whispers' regularly. At level 60, I was invited by one of these friends to check out a raiding guild who classified themselves as the "serious-but-not-too-serious" niche. Beforehand, raiding seemed like an unattainable prospect for me because, well, I was convinced that I was a rather poor player. My friend assured me that if I followed the loot rules and did my job I would be fine. So I went to the guild's website, filled out an entry application, was taken on a trial run (for those unfamiliar with MMOGs, a dungeon run to see if I had the skills to contribute to the guild) and promptly received an invite from the guild master.

If you've ever experienced WoW's end-game, or the end-game of any MMOG for that matter, you'll know that raiding can turn the game into a full-fledged responsibility, or as the joke runs, a second job. I had to commit to three raids per week -- each of which lasted four hours -- but as a new recruit I was put on rotate. This meant that, in the result of an excess of raiders, I was put on-deck to take the place of any raider who had to leave. In many cases I spent hours idly waiting for a spot, and for what? The chance that I would get to see a huge dragon or fire-spitting giant or, if we were good enough, an even huger dragon. Plus, there was the miniscule chance that I would get a purple-coded piece of equipment, or an "epic," that would boost my stats marginally. To me, it was a big deal.

Nefarian, in all his glory.

Months passed, grades deteriorated, and I snuggled into the position of guild officer and class leader. Suffice it to say I was draped in full epic garb. By then my guild had waged war inside the toughest dungeons to the point that nothing was tough anymore. We gloried on our thrones with nothing left to conquer. So the next chapter in this story probably isn't too surprising, and typical to many raiding guilds. Members stopped showing up for raids, bitterness was exchanged, and the guild leader decided to disband. Soon enough, some of the officers opted for a fresh start by forming a new guild, but that's when I realized I had my WoW fill. I felt pangs of despair whenever I logged in -- I had no guild, my in-game friends slowly departed, and I felt no motivation to continue playing. Poor me. I cancelled my subscription and, more or less, resumed my real life.

If there's a moral to this story it's that the addiction will, at least once, return to envelop you. An expansion pack, The Burning Crusade, was released a year and some months after I had quit. I was enjoying the next generation of gaming with my Xbox 360, so my penchant for console games convinced me that the two new races, level cap increase, new zone, flying mounts, new professions, and more on offer didn't matter to me. Nope, I didn't want the expansion at all. Nuh-uh. Then one blistery winter evening, when I was doing some Christmas shopping at Future Shop, I stood powerless in the presence of an elaborate display showcasing Burning Crusade copies. Row upon row, they were like treasure ripe for plunder. I caved. I bought the game and convinced myself I would only play it only for the free month, just to check out the new content and quit right after.

Well, the rest is history. An identical sequence of events followed: I met some people, leveled up, joined a guild, raided, the guild disbanded, and I quit. And during that duration of about one year, my grades suffered, my social life hinged on total replete, and I generally became disconnected from my surroundings. Incidentally, I also missed out on a lot of other games.

Cataclysm will feature a heroic version of Deadmines boss Van Cleef. Awesome.

There came a glimmer of hope when the second expansion, Wrath of the Lich King, released about seven months after I had quit Burning Crusade. I approached the thing more realistically this time around. I planned on quitting after I leveled a Death Knight to 80, and, well, I only made it to level 72 before the regimental aspect of questing kicked in and I got bored. I wasn't even two weeks into the game and my interest had fleeted. Why did my lust to stay in this obscure, enticing world suddenly die? I didn't know, and to this day I do not know. But I am certainly glad for it.

However, WoW has not completely escaped my thoughts. Every so often I'll browse the official forums, see what guilds are trumping in my past realm, and even take a peek at thottbot to see what purple loot current addicts are craving. What's scarier, I can still cite most of my main character's gear and talents without thinking much about it, even though I haven't played it for at least nine months.

So you can see why the announcement of a new expansion has such a looming effect over me. I'm still not sure whether I'm going to purchase it or not, because if I do, one of two things can happen: I'll either shrug it off like I did with WOTLK, or it'll produce volatile results and I'll be dragged into the same dark hallway as with the first WoW and TBC.

Gaming in general has brought great enjoyment to my life. I am confident that it has enhanced it. The only problem is that there can be no perfect hobby, as shown by my wrestle with WoW. It's a bleak corner of my gaming history that, whether in the form of the actual game or just in the cobwebs of my memory, is here to stay.

18 Comments

The Sound of Pixels

By deactivated-135098 July 26, 2009 5 Comments

Lately I find myself flicking the sound off, or to a barely audible volume, when playing my Xbox 360 at night. This isn't a personal choice; I do it so not to wake everyone up. At least when I play PC games I can slap on my trusty BOSE headphones, but having to play games without sound is like the difference between soda and water. The latter is functional, but just not the same. As I look back on the parts of my life I’ve spent gaming (which is basically all of it), I realize that I’ve taken for granted the vibrant, charming, chilling, delightful, and every-adjective-imaginable sounds of games that I’ve enjoyed. And I’m willing to say that plenty of other gamers have too. Between gameplay and graphics, who has time to care about sound? It's just there, and except for rare cases like Rock Band and Guitar Hero where sound plays an obvious role, I think sound is under-appreciated as a significant element of gaming.

I could finish this blog post right here, but just so I don’t sound all mealy-mouthed and cynical I've compiled a list of the five best sounding games I’ve ever played. The criteria are sound effects, music and voice acting, in no particular order. I should also mention that I’m by no means a sound expert of any sort, nor do I claim to be. I’m just another gamer. So without further ado:

#5: Mass Effect

Bioware's story-driven space opera, Mass Effect, became an instant success among Xbox 360 owners when it was first released. Other than having some of the finest voice acting a current-gen game has ever witnessed, Mass Effect's musical score is like no other. The music is about as sci-fi as you can get without sounding cheap or tinny, while still conveying that epic build-up and rhapsody that you'd expect from any phenomenal orchestral score. Some tracks are deep and resonant, capturing the mood of hurdling across galaxies, while others abandon most organic noises but are still downright cool. It’s no surprise, then, that the musical score was composed by Jack Wall, the man who also created the soundtracks for the Myst, Jade Empire and Splinter Cell franchises.

Admittedly, the game’s sound effects are dwarfed in comparison with such captivating music and precise voice acting, though they're still great. The gun shots are satisfying, albeit repetitive. There's not a whole lot of ambiance considering most of the locations are rather barren, but the cool interface noises are always a treat. Still, the important thing is that Mass Effect’s distinguished soundtrack won’t be forgotten anytime soon.

#4: The Chronicles of Riddick: Escape from Butcher Bay

What? A movie-based game that has original, quality sound? Yes. Butcher Bay didn’t quite get the attention it truly deserved, perhaps because of that glaring "movie license" title it carried (even though the actual game isn't completely derived from its movie cousin). Nonetheless, those of us who gambled our time and money got quite the serendipity from Butcher Bay, as not only does it tote fine graphics and tight gameplay but some spectacular sounds. Riddick, being the cold and brutal guy that he is, can pull off some delightfully nasty sounding punches, neck-breaks, and attacks with various melee weapons. Clomping through prison halls in a mech-walker is a feast for the ears. The guns sound somewhat weak, but still emit a futuristic oomph. And despite the occasional cheesiness of his character, the voice acting for Riddick is uncompromisingly dark.

The post-gen sequel, Assault on Dark Athena, adopts the same level of audio quality as Butcher Bay, though isn’t as impressive because it’s basically the same sounding game released four years later. Therefore, it’s Butcher Bay that really deserves the praise.

#3: The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion

Oblivion sort of polarized fans of the Elder Scrolls series upon its release. Some claimed that it didn’t live up to the fantasy atmosphere and dense exploration that Morrowind had. But regardless, I think it’s agreeable that Oblivion is an all around aural gem. You’re exposed to a melting pot of sounds from the bleak beginning in a prison cell and all the way through the hefty amount of story missions and side quests. Every single object makes a distinct noise when you interact with it, whether that interaction be picking it up, punching it, or doing whatever your whim desires.

Very few games produce such a satisfying whoosh when swinging melee weapons. My ears perk up in delight whenever the tiniest blade or hugest hammer strikes a foe. In addition, the tantalizing sounds of magical spells are like no other. While these spells make a great visual display, they also emit neat noises that bring life to their casting. And the music – Christ on the crapper, the music. There have been times playing Oblivion when I’ve put down the controller and stared vacantly because of the beauty of its music. Perhaps Mass Effect’s soundtrack is the most unique, but Oblivion’s creates such a compelling atmosphere that it must be acknowledged.

And apart from the wooden facial expressions of the NPCs, the game’s voice acting is done well. “I came across a mudcrab the other day” used to be a fixture in my repertoire of conversation starters. No fooling.

(Actually, yeah, I made part that up.)

#2: Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty

Garnering an abundance of critical acclaim, MGS2 saw itself as the greatest stealth-action game on the market in 2001. As far as sound goes, MGS2 takes the simplicity of the past and sophistication of its current time to create an audio experience that most games still don’t even approach. Every byte of sound in the game rings like it should be there.

I think it’s the only game where hammy, exaggerated voice acting works well, while still keeping the general tone serious. Like a Tarantino film, the stylish over-the-top-ness propels the quality forward instead of holding it back. Honestly, it’s best if you just listen to the game yourself. To hear how clean and precise the sound is, minimize the video and listen to the sound in the background. This seems sort of pointless, but doing this allows you to clearly imagine everything that’s going on in the game just by its audio.

Metal Gear is a resonant franchise, but it’s in its purest, most candid sounding form in MGS2. This is shown perfectly in the main theme, which I think is at its best in MGS2 in comparison to other installments. The game’s tremendous sound may not roar above the superb storyline and slick gameplay, but it whispers. And in a game where espionage is the key feature, that’s more effective than “hey, listen to me, I’m the sound and I’m awesome.”

#1: The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time

The Ocarina of Time is to video games as The Beatles is to music. It’s an enthralling classic that’s exalted by gamers from all walks of gamedom. So whether you’re a hardcore shooter fan, RPG buff or something in between, it’s hard to stray from the fact that OoT anything but a masterpiece. Even as cliché a choice that OoT is for anything in regard s to “the best ever [insert feature here],” its spot as number one on this list is not held in vain. The game’s diverse palette of stellar sounds brought it here, and I can see no other game that qualifies as being closer to audio perfection than OoT. Especially when taking into account that it was made years before every game on this list.

For all the adjectives I’ve used to describe sound so far, I think all of them can be attached to OoT at one point or another. This has a lot to do with the circumstance of its various settings. The background music makes the shadow temple spooky, the water temple mystic, and the fire temple precarious. The greatest emotion from the music is perhaps the staunch heroism felt while coasting through Hyrule on your pony. The battle against Ganondorf is like a jab in the ribs, ensconcing you in a flurry of sound. If I ever had to turn the volume off while playing OoT I probably wouldn’t play it at all out of respect for the experience. The sound, even with the absence of voice acting, is that awe-inspiring.

Fun fact: they say the nose is a direct channel to the brain, so scents usually trigger our most vivid memories. However, as a ‘90s kid, I become overwhelmed by the greatest nostalgia when I hear the tweets and coos from Link’s ocarina. Not only is OoT a stalwart example of how video game sound has evolved from its 8-bit brethren, but it also introduced the innovative ocarina mini-game. Even in the face of interactive music experiences available today, there’s still something charming about playing the ocarina with an N64 controller. And hearing it too.

Although your nostalgic feelings for OoT may not be as strong as mine, the stand-alone sounds of Link’s quest to save the tri-force are the lasting sparks that make our emotions toward the game so malleable. For this reason and many others, I have a feeling that OoT will continue to reverberate through the progressing world of video games for a long, long time.

And now we arrive at that part of the list where I tack on those proverbial honourable mentions. Here are a few other games that didn’t quite make the top five:

Goldeneye 007. Probably the first shooter to get the sound of gun shots right.

Super Mario 64. Some of the time I can barely discern what the sounds are supposed to represent (what the heck does that voice say before you enter a level? “Das pickle”?) But SM64’s sound is exceptionally charming as a whole.

Grand Theft Auto IV. Having the greatest licensed soundtrack in any game is no small feat.

Resident Evil 4. It took quite a while for the Resident Evil series to finally tweak its sound to an appropriate level, and it finally did so in RE4. Superb voice acting from all the cast and, behind it all, a crawlingly scary soundtrack.

Duck Hunt. I just had to add this game for that one sound that comes after shooting the duck.

I’m sure that many of my selections can be argued, and you may be angered not to see your favourite sounding sensations on the list. If you want to flame me for it, that’s cool, but if you want to post your own top five best sounding games in the comments, that’s cool too. But hopefully you can acknowledge that, bar a few exceptions, excellent games harness much of their excellence from one feature: sound.

5 Comments